“You mean like when your nipples get hard?”
“Well yes… that would actually be the most obvious example. But there are other things that happen as well. Less visible things. Of course, you being an experienced man, no doubt know all of this already.”
“I’m sure I do, but I’m still curious to hear what you have to say.”
“Okay,” she turned once more to face me. “In the same way that blood rushes to your penis causing an erection – whether you want it to or not… The same thing happens with us. Blood flows into our vulva, filling out our labia – our lips become… flushed… and our clitoris… it becomes swollen and hard – just like your penis.”
As she spoke, my eyes trailed down her front to the wonderful cleft between her legs – accentuated so perfectly by her thin tights. She leaned back against the shelves, her hips thrust forward. Looking closely, and aided by the glow from that light bulb – I could indeed see the well-defined shape of her full labial lips – spread to either side of her thong. And more than that, I could make out the pronounced ridge of her clit.
Mom made no effort to avoid my probing gaze. In fact she spread her legs ever so slightly and continued, “And then of course there’s the whole issue of lubrication… wetness. I’m sure you know all about that though.”
“I know at least one thing… how much I freaking love it!”
“Haha – yeah you and every man – believe me! And women love it too – everybody loves a wet pussy!” She laughed a little before continuing, “So you may also know that a woman doesn’t always have control over when she gets wet, or where she is when she gets wet, or even how wet she gets. Sometimes it just happens all on it’s own.”
Hearing my Mom talk like this was getting me so horny. “I imagine that could be quite… distracting, Mom. But I tend to think of things like that – erections… wetness, all of it – as our body expressing our deepest, truest feelings – no matter how awkward or inconvenient that may be sometimes.”
Mom casually ran her eyes over the length of my straining member, while I continued to focus on the delightful view she was offering of her camel-toe. “You may be right about the ‘deepest, truest, feelings,’… And you are definitely right about how distracting it can be. Sometimes it gets to the point where it’s practically the only thing you can think about. And all you want to do is get some kind satisfaction… some kind of relief. I’m sure you know what I mean right?”
“Absolutely, I do.” I stepped closer to her. “Is that what you need Mom… some kind of ‘relief’?”
Our eyes met, and her eyes told me everything. They were saying, ‘Oh fuck yeah – I need so much fucking relief… and I need it now!’ But for reasons of her own, Mom didn’t express that sentiment. Instead she stood up fully straight once more and turned her attention to the boxes and the shelves. “I’ll tell you what I need relief from… this miserable humidity! Did it just get really hot in here or what!?”
It’s true, the air had become very still, very heavy. It felt like a thunderstorm was approaching. We were both covered in a slippery layer of sweat. “I know – right!” said I. “Shall we go take another A/C break?”
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